CALLED TO THE COLORS This is the story of a "tenderfoot"—of a pink-cheeked, petted lad, and of his first service as a Boy Scout. Danny Harding was what his mother's friends termed "wonderfully fortunate," but Danny himself took quite another view of his life's circumstances as he hurried home from school one afternoon, an hour before the regular time for dismissal. The day was golden with sunshine, but the boy's spirit was dark. There was singing in the air and singing in the tree tops, but in the heart which pounded against his immaculate jacket were silent rage and despair. The Whippoorwill Patrol had been called to the colors, and he the untried, the untested tenderfoot would have to remain at home in luxurious security, while the huskier, browner, less-sheltered lads answered their country's call. It was beyond the power of a boy's heart to endure—the mortification—the wild despair of it! They would call him a slacker, a coward! But, worse still, his country needed him, and he could not answer
CALLED TO THE COLORS This is the story of a "tenderfoot"—of a pink-cheeked, petted lad, and of his first service as a Boy Scout. Danny Harding was what his mother's friends termed "wonderfully fortunate," but Danny himself took quite another view of his life's circumstances as he hurried home from school one afternoon, an hour before the regular time for dismissal. The day was golden with sunshine, but the boy's spirit was dark. There was singing in the air and singing in the tree tops, but in the heart which pounded against his immaculate jacket were silent rage and despair. The Whippoorwill Patrol had been called to the colors, and he the untried, the untested tenderfoot would have to remain at home in luxurious security, while the huskier, browner, less-sheltered lads answered their country's call. It was beyond the power of a boy's heart to endure—the mortification—the wild despair of it! They would call him a slacker, a coward! But, worse still, his country needed him, and he could not answer